Kamikaze (Last Call #1) (6 page)
Silence stretched out between them for
several long seconds, then Zoe laughed. “Oh God, I think you wore
her out. I might love you a little for that.”
Connor grinned. “I know you’re excited about
the Jacuzzi, but I don’t think I can get up right now.”
She rolled over and curled against his side,
her body warm and soft as she snuggled into his arms. “Later. I
don’t want to fall asleep and drown.”
He reached over, grabbed the silk throw
draped over the headboard, and spread it over them. “Nap. Bath.
Then breakfast.”
Zoe pressed a hand against the center of his
chest and propped herself up. Her kiss-swollen lips and slightly
glazed expression combined with her wild hair to give her a
debauched look. She looked gorgeous, but what hit him the hardest
was the slender, pale column of her neck. He’d marked her, made her
his in a very visible, very real way.
The way she looked down at him said she knew
it. Her tongue darted over her lip in that adorable little nervous
gesture, and she smiled. “You’re going to date me, right? Because
if you’re not going to date me, I’m going to go cry in the
bathtub.”
“
I was about to say the same
thing to you,” he teased, then kissed her shoulder. His heart
pounded. She wanted him. “Will you go out on a
real
date with me sometime? Dinner, movie,
no sex club?”
“
Yes.” Her hair tickled his
face as she leaned down to kiss him. It was slow and shy, like her
first kiss, and evoked possessive tenderness instead of hot
passion.
She pulled away and dropped her head back to
his shoulder with a sleepy sigh of satisfaction. “Can we go get
pancakes after our bath? I love pancakes.”
Mine.
He slid his arm around her and pulled
her closer. “I’ll buy. You’re going to be broke by the time you pay
for all this.”
“
Am not.” Her murmur
tickled his chest. “I’m a big shot sysadmin. I make bank. But you
can buy my new collection of sex toys if you want, just to be
fair.”
“
Mmm.” Her words barely
penetrated his sleepy haze. “I’ll even give you final say on where
they go.”
Her only response was a gentle snore.
Something occurred to him, and he lifted his
head and nudged her side. “Zoe? Zoe, wake up.”
She grumbled and opened her eyes. “Huh?”
“
What’s your last name?” He
didn’t know why it was so important, but it didn’t feel right to
not know.
“
Bennett.” The corner of
her mouth tugged up into a smile. “I’m Zoe Bennett. What about
you?”
“
Connor O’Malley.” He
kissed her softly. “Nice to meet you, Zoe Bennett.”
Inside, the wolf echoed her grumble. He
didn’t care about human things like names or labels. He’d felt Zoe,
touched and explored her, and deemed her a perfect mate. The wolf
wouldn’t be letting her go, and Connor smiled.
He had no problem with that at all.
Wondering what other drinks are on the menu? Check out this
excerpt from
Fiona took one
last look at the printed menu in her hand and grimaced at her
friend. “I don’t need a drink. I need help.”
“
Honey, this place is chock full of hot wizards.” Jenn
snatched the menu out of Fiona’s hands and studied the back of
it. “And this menu’s the key. We just have to decode
it. Maybe they have a drink for, ‘My castrated jackass of an
ex cursed me to a life free of orgasms, contents under
pressure.’ Like… oh
shit
, you can get in on a
vampire/werewolf threesome? Hot.”
Leave it to Jenn to focus on the more salacious aspects of
Last Call’s offerings. “I like my blood where it is,
werewolves are notoriously possessive, and a supernatural hookup
is
not
on the
agenda. Remember what happened when I kissed that councilman
at your gallery opening last fall?” Fiona shuddered at the
memory. “That poor cater-waiter lost his eyebrows, and the
sprinklers destroyed your mixed-media.”
“
Yeah, well, that’s why you need a
supernatural
hookup. Maybe
there’s someone in here powerful enough to survive the curse.
Hell, maybe there’s someone who can
break
it.” Jenn clutched the
menu in one hand and grabbed Fiona’s arm in the other. “Come
on, let’s go ask the bartender.”
She knew who
could break it. Someone who could lay wards so powerful
they’d keep garden-variety humans off of a property without any
question or concern. Someone who could maintain peace and order
when vampires and witches were partying with demons and
faeries.
She needed the
owner of Last Call.
Fiona grabbed
the menu from Jenn and scanned the back, then slammed the paper
down on the bar. One way or another, the curse ended
tonight.
The bartender
walked over, his movements easy in spite of the churning energy in
the club, one eyebrow raised and a grin on his dark, handsome
face. “Can I help you ladies?”
Fiona took a
deep breath. “I need to speak to Benito D’Cruze.”
“
No, she doesn’t!” Jenn reclaimed the menu and held it
up. “She needs… a hurricane.”
“
A hurricane?” The bartender glanced at Jenn before
bringing his gaze back to Fiona. “Hurricane’s for
inexperienced witches and wizards. People who are liable to
blow the place up without proper handling.” Unspoken was the
implication that she didn’t look particularly
inexperienced.
Fiona gritted
her teeth. “Can I see Mr. D’Cruze or not?”
“
Sorry, miss. The owner’s not available. You could
call his office and arrange an appointment during business hours,
though.”
“
Okay.” She drew in another breath and nodded.
“Then I’ll need that hurricane, please.”
One dark
eyebrow curved up into a perfect arch. “You sure?”
Jenn, who had
already indulged in a number of the bar’s more mundane drinks,
leaned forward in a conspiratorial manner. “She’s got a big
bad curse on her. Things blow up when she gets turned on. She
may not be an inexperienced witch, but she still needs proper
handling.”
“
Uh-huh.” Fiona grinned. She could just make out with the ones
who
thought
they
could handle the curse. Sooner or later, doddering old Benny
D’Cruze would make his way down from his lavish office to inspect
the damage. “Hope the property insurance is paid up. Rum
makes me horny.”
The
Last Call Series
http://www.moirarogers.com/last-call
Werewolf in
heat, looking for a temporary mate.
Contents under magical pressure.
Experience required.
Werewolf looking for a
dominant.
Supernatural looking for a first
lover.
Werewolf looking for a
submissive.
Looking for a
partner immune to supernatural seduction.
Too hot to
handle--looking for a fireproof lover.
About the Author
How do you make a Moira Rogers? Take a former
forensic science and nursing student obsessed with paranormal
romance and add a computer programmer with a passion for gritty
urban fantasy. Toss in a dash of whimsy and a lot of caffeine, and
enjoy with a side of chocolate by the light of the full moon.
By day, Bree and Donna are
mild-mannered ladies who reside in the Deep South. At night, when
their husbands and children are asleep, they combine forces to
unleash the product of their fevered imaginations upon the page. To
learn more about this romance writing, crime fighting duo, visit
their webpage at
http://www.moirarogers.com
.
(Disclaimer: crime fighting abilities may appear only in the
aforementioned fevered imaginations.)
RETURN
TO...
